All rights are marvel's, i own nothing. well that's not true, i own a car and a laptop and a bed... but you know what i mean. I love these characters and the story that brought them together once again.
A Wintery Friendship
The video flickered on the screen, the colors were faded and the sound tinny. The camera was aimed at a young man in torn and tattered clothing tied to a chair. A doctor was examining the stump that was all that was left of the man's left arm. A prod from the doctor's tool jerked the man awake. He fought feebly against his ties, then slumped listlessly back into the chair.
"What is your name, soldier?" an accented voice asked from off camera.
"Fuck you." was the reply. The man's words were slurred and his eyes fought to focus on the speaker.
"Do you know where you are?"
"Hell," was the whispered reply as the man slipped back into drugged delusion, his eyes focused on the camera once before closing.
The video went black for a moment before a second video appeared. The same man, this time in grey pants and a plain white t-shirt, was tied to a wall. His jaw was clenched and his brow determined. Three hooded figures approached, they patiently took turns each delivering a carefully placed punch, enough to hurt the prisoner, but never in the same place twice and never drawing blood. As the punches came, the prisoner stared forward, in defiance of the violent onslaught, he began to sing. His words were interspersed with grunts of pain, but the lyrics were clear enough:
"Who's strong and brave, here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what's right night and day? Who will campaign door-to-door for America, Carry the flag shore to shore for America, From Hoboken to Spokane, The Star Spang—"
The defiant prisoner stopped singing abruptly as one last punch broke his nose. He gasped, and his eyes rolled back as his head flopped down.
The video changed once again. This time the man was standing on his own, his face blank, void of emotion. As he stood, men around him spoke to the camera in Polish. They were explaining to the camera, motioning to the prisoner and the chair beside him. A tall, blond, and bearded man in a lab coat motioned to the prisoner. He obediently sat in the chair and allowed himself to be tied down; he even helped to tighten the strap around his torso. Two men positioned a metallic ring around the man's head. After securing the device, the labcoated man nodded off screen. The prisoner jerked into listless convulsions as bolts of electricity racked his brain.
The screen that had been showing the video went black. Steve Rogers backed away slowly, his attention turning from the screen to the chair that sat in the center of the room. The very same chair where Bucky had received dozens of electrical shocks. If Steve had understood what the Polish scientists were saying correctly, the video showed Bucky's 14th shock treatment.
"Oh Buck…" he whispered quietly, his eyes lingering on the electrode ring sitting on the seat.
Steve glanced down at his watch, realizing that he had stayed in the run-down lab much longer than he had planned on. He made one last go-over of the many drawers in the desk before him, making sure he had gathered all the paperwork he could find. He drew one last sheet of paper out of a cabinet and shoved it into his backpack, he would look through the papers at a more secure location. Though he doubted that Hydra had left anything important at the lab, something might point him to his next destination.
Captain America had spent the last three months trying to find clues about what had happened to Bucky over the past 70 years. The official S.H.I.E.L.D. file had led to dead ends in Germany, Ukraine, and Siberia. Finally, the name of a Soviet scientist listed in the file had led him to this buried facility near the Polish/Belarusian border.
Sparing one last glance at the lab, Steve turned and fled, taking the stairs three at a time. Outside the facility, a run-down coupe waited for him in the gravel drive. Snow had started to fall and the wind was picking up. An October blizzard was looming. He was fitting the key into the door when a shadow shifted in the snow. Steve didn't need to think, he drew his pistol and faced the threatening shadow.
The shadow stood 20 feet away and was dressed in dark jeans and a black wool jacket, he had the hood drawn against the wind and snow. There were no weapons visible, but Steve new the man was bristling with knives and guns, not to mention the metallic arm, which was a formidable weapon in its own right.
The Winter Soldier showed his empty hands placatingly, Steve slowly lowered his weapon not taking his eyes away. The two men simply looked at each other through the billowing snow, they were both tense, prepared to defend themselves if need be, but both of them were soaking in the other's face.
Finally, Steve broke the silence, "Did you go down there?" he inclined his head toward the bunker door that led to the lab.
"I did," was the reply.
"You watch the video?"
"I did," The Winter Soldier approached the Captain slowly, continuing to watch him carefully. "From what I've learned, I should remember you," The dark haired man said slowly, "But I don't," The soldier now stood no more than 6 feet away.
"Then why let me live? Why save me after I fell into the Potomac?" Steve asked.
The Winter Soldier, if that who he even was anymore, finally looked away. His gaze drifted over the bunker and trees, but he was looking far away, looking inside himself for an answer. Finally, he let out a puff of air and looked back at the Captain. "Because even though I know you only as a mission, every piece of my being was telling me to stop, telling me that I couldn't let you die." The soldier looked away but kept talking, "I don't know anything but my mission. I don't know who I am, where I've been, or how I came to be what I am, but I do know that when every instinct I have is telling me to stop, I stop."
Steve looked at his friend with determination. "I know who you are, you are Bucky Barnes, the closest thing I have to a brother. As for where you've been and how you came to be what you are," Steve paused to think, and then nodded to himself, "how about we figure that out together."
Bucky gave one short nod and took another step toward Steve, extending his hand. Steve grasped it cautiously, but firmly.
